


Emotion

by Emrome



Category: MorMor - Fandom, Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Death, Explicit Language, Ficlet, M/M, Unilock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 12:14:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4262916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emrome/pseuds/Emrome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim met Sebastian at University as he was being sent away. Once was hard, twice was worse when Jim gets a particular phone call one night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Emotion

**Author's Note:**

> My first work that's uber tiny, I'm embarrassed, please enjoy!

Jim was eerily peaceful one night as he laid down to rest; the day was gorgeous but once again he cooped himself up in the flat to continue daydreaming about his empire. The day was long and constantly dragging as he tried to forget about Sebastian.  
Sebastian. Sebastian Moran. Some jock from school that was more interesting than any one man could get. Jim thought highly of him. More than highly as Sebastian was the only one Jim ever cared for in his small life. Heartbroken and miserable the day Sebastian left him for the army, Jim swore to never forgive him, but alas, Jim forgave him the moment he got his first letter. Soon after Seb came back, Jim spent every moment with his ace sniper.   
It wasn’t until Colonel Sebastian Moran was called back to the army, to report at 0600 hours and leave for an unmentionable amount of time. Jim, once again, hated the army and vowed he would be bitter until his sniper was returned, and for a small leave Sebastian was back with his boss, but all good things come to an end.

An eerie and peaceful night, Jim laid his head down and anxiety crept over him. Anxiety flooded his veins, cool sweat covered his skin, and the phone rang. Ringing out, it was taunting Jim with a death notice of the only interesting person in his world.  
The telephone made Jim’s ears numb, like hearing loss from an explosion. Thin, food-deprived fingers that Sebastian would never again yell at him for, picked up the phone with a click. Jim regretted it as if not answering would keep Seb alive.   
“Hello?” he seemed stronger than he felt.  
“Jimmy?” Sebastian’s voice rang out like a chorus.  
A breath pushed out like he was being deflated, “Fucking prick! Sebastian Moran, I thought you were de--”  
“I love you, Jim,” Sebastian chuckled out. The sun beat down into Jim’s soul through the darkness of night and the pain of Sebastian’s absence.  
“I love you too, fucking prick,” a smile escaped the lips of the dark soul.  
“I’ll be home on Tuesday, so make everything pretty for me. I have to go, I love you, Jim,” Sebastian’s voice sounded weak, but happy.  
“I love you--” click. The cheeks upon Jim’s clean face never were more sore. Jim laid in bed that night, not plagued by demons that Sebastian wouldn’t come home.  
Monday morning came with a jump and skip to Jim’s step, his head buzzed, Sebastian’s voice echoing and knowing in less that twenty-four hours he would be home. Jim sat on the couch where Sebastian would soon be splayed out, relaxing like he hadn’t been in months. Sebastian, home again and sleeping peacefully in his t shirt and jeans unlike he’d been in months. Sebastian would be home in twenty-four hours.  
The peculiar ring of the phone didn’t haunt him today. Nothing could drag Jim down in the next twenty-four hours.

Then twenty-four hours later, Colonel Sebastian Augustus Moran was home and resting.

Colonel Sebastian Augustus Moran was laid to rest in a silent funeral, only pierced by the noise of screams and cries of James Moriarty, who never showed emotion except when the moment required it, and this time it didn’t require, but commanded it. He’d gazed upon the frigid white face of his previously olive skinned lover. The bullet went so cleanly through his temple and out the other side, the medical examiners weren’t sure how he didn’t see it coming. Jim touched the bullet wound gently, a soft smile spread on Sebastian’s face. Hours wasted in the funeral home, Jim stared at Sebastian in the casket, in a tailor made Westwood, and was silent again. Death cared not for the opinions of men.  
Jameson, Sebastian’s loyal, helped Jim at the funeral home, but nothing stopped the wailing of Jim as he knelt before the freshly made grave. The chant of Sebastian’s name in a repetitive cycle was a metronome to the sobs of Jim’s mourning song. Jameson eventually left the haunted man in his suit as the rain poured down, drowning the sorrow that pierced Jim’s heart and soul. Soon, Jim’s song rang out of tune and he slept on the freshly muddy grave in his favourite suit, detached from everything that was real. Jim knew what was to come knowing the ghosts would haunt him once again.

I love you.


End file.
